


Stable Loop

by non



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, Karkat Hates Himself, Karkat Swearing, M/M, POV Second Person, Pesterlog, Post-Update Fic, Sappy, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/non/pseuds/non
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After nearly two years on the meteor, Karkat is pushed into an overdue feelings jam by his future self.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stable Loop

  
\--FUTURE carcinoGeneticist [FCG] began trolling CURRENT carcinoGeneticist [CCG]\--  
  
FCG: HEY, ASSHOLE. I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.  
FCG: LISTEN TO ME.  
FCG: HEY  
FCG: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY IGNORING ME?  
FCG: THIS IS THE EQUIVALENT OF CRYING FOR YOUR ATTENTION LIKE A LOST, ORPHANED WRIGGLER.  
FCG: WIGGLER. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.  
FCG: I KNOW YOU’RE THERE. I’VE ALREADY HAD THIS CONVERSATION, REMEMBER?  
FCG: HEY!  
CCG: WHAT DO YOU WANT??  
CCG: TALKING TO YOU IS ALWAYS A MISERABLE EXERCISE IN SELF FLAGELLATION.  
CCG: YOU ARE THE ABSOLUTE WORST, ALWAYS, FOREVER.  
FCG: NO, WE ARE NOT DOING THE TIRED RECURSIVE SELF LOATHING THING RIGHT NOW. I'M NOT IN THE MOOD TO RUB TEXTUAL HATE BULGES WITH YOU, BECAUSE THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO TALK ABOUT.  
FCG: WE NEED TO ADDRESS THE TRUNKBEAST IN THE ROOM.  
FCG: IT’S STUMBLING AROUND LIKE IT'S CONSUMED TOO MANY HUMAN SOPORIFICS. IT’S KNOCKING EVERYTHING OVER AND MAKING AN EMBARRASSING MESS OF THINGS, AND YOU KNOW IT.  
FCG: IT'S TIME FOR AN INTERVENTION.  
FCG: YOU KNOW THE THING WITH DAVE?  
CCG: WHAT  
FCG: DON’T PLAY COY WITH ME YOU NUBBY DIPSHIT, YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I MEAN.  
CCG: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS???? NO. I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS, ESPECIALLY NOT WITH YOU.  
CCG: THERE IS NO *THING* FOR ME TO EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE!  
FCG: OKAY WAIT, HEAR ME OUT.  
FCG: DO YOU THINK I WOULD BE CONTACTING YOU IF I DIDN'T HAVE A GOOD REASON?  
CCG: ALL RIGHT, FINE. I'M LISTENING.  
FCG: JUST  
FCG: DO IT. JUST SAY SOMETHING. HE'LL BE CHILL ABOUT IT. TRUST ME ON THIS.  
CCG: DID YOU JUST SAY “CHILL” WITH COMPLETE SINCERITY? IN THAT CONTEXT?? WOW, YOU'RE REALLY MAKING A GREAT CASE FOR YOURSELF.  
FCG: LOOK. I KNOW HIM BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE  
FCG: AND I GUESS THAT MEANS YOU’D TAKE SECOND PLACE ON THAT LIST?  
FCG: CONGRATULATIONS, YOU WIN THE SILVER MEDAL! YOU ARE THE RUNNER UP IN THIS CHARADE OF A BEAUTY PAGEANT, AND YOUR SASH AND PLAQUE WILL BE ARRIVING SHORTLY.  
FCG: THIS HAS BEEN A LONG TIME COMING AND YOU KNOW IT.  
FCG: JUST GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY. WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO LOSE?  
CCG: THIS IS PATHETIC  
CCG: AND I’M PATHETIC FOR LISTENING TO RELATIONSHIP ADVICE FROM MYSELF!  
CCG: WHATEVER. THANKS FOR YOUR WONDERFUL VOTE OF CONFIDENCE, I GUESS.  
  


  
          So.  
  
          That’s what put you in your current position. You pace around your room, rubbing at your temples and considering your options. On one hand, there’s no way that talking to Dave about this isn’t going to end without you absolutely humiliating yourself. On the other, blowing off your future self’s advice will probably create a doomed timeline and kill you all.  
  
               The self-loathing part of you - which is a very big part - almost weighs it seriously.  
  
          You heave a heavy, world-weary sigh, muttering ‘fuck you, fuck you, I hate you,’ to yourself, about yourself, as you make your way to the common area. Immediately after poking your head into the room you duck back out, too quickly to look even remotely casual to anyone paying attention. You can’t worry about that right now. He’s not there, which means you won’t have to say anything within earshot of the others. Thank god. They'd never let you live it down - Vriska would probably take pictures, even. Despite how much you’ve been put through, sometimes the universe throws you a proverbial bone.  
  
          Unsurprisingly, you find him in one of the hallways, sitting on his knees with the mayor beside him. Dave’s scrawling out what looks like a SBAHJified (and how the hell does he manage to make jpeg artifacts with chalk?) picture of the mayor on the wall set to a blue sky with swirling clouds, a red flag held in the air triumphantly as the real carapace excitedly points out instructions. Terezi is going to be so mad that the two of them snuck off with her favorite flavor, and you’re looking forward to the fight it’s sure to end in. Your theoretical boonbucks are on her.  
  
          After watching for a bit, you suck it up and actually approach them. You swallow nervously, hoping it isn’t audible over the scratch of the chalk. Your palms are sweaty, your knees are weak. Even your arms feel heavy and you're a little disgusted with yourself for being this much more tense than usual.  
  
          ‘Hey,’ you manage. Dave doesn’t look up, but at least he acknowledges that you’re there.  
  
          ‘Yeah?’  
       
          Here’s where you freeze up, because you really should have prepared something, a script or a flowchart or _anything_ to make this moment even a little easier. You’re a tactician at heart, you always go into things with a battle plan, what were you thinking? It’s your stupid goddamn future self’s fault for rushing you. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you struggle for words. ‘UH,’ you begin eloquently. Your voice is too loud in the almost-empty hallway so you start again. ‘Look. I need to talk to you.’  
  
          It’s then that he finally turns to look at you over his shoulder, and you can see the edge of one of his huge eyebrows peeking over his aviators. ‘What’s up? Something I need to shelter his delicate not-ears from, or can you keep your spaghetti in your pockets and say it here?’  
  
          Looking at the mayor, your frown deepens. You avert your eyes. ‘It doesn’t really matter. I guess we could go somewhere private.’  
  
          The other eyebrow rises. ‘Holy shit, I was kidding.’  
  
          That raises your hackles and your scowl becomes a full-on glare. ‘Well maybe you shouldn’t be kidding right now, asswipe! I said I needed to say something, and if you don’t want to hear it, I don’t actually care. Bye.’  
  
          You spin on your heel and fully intend to march off to regroup when he sets down the chalk with a soft _clink._ Then he does this infuriatingly show-offish thing he does sometimes where he leans back and then forward and it somehow puts him on his feet. ‘Hey, be back soon, dude,’ he says to the mayor, his voice so different than it is with literally anyone else. Softer, kinder. It’s completely understandable. Everyone loves the mayor, no exceptions.  
  
          He follows you at a casual pace with his too-long legs that practically move twice as far as yours with each stride and you’re actually thankful that he’s taking his time. As you walk you try to mentally write up something on the fly that you could say to him. Maybe it’d just be best to lay out a list of pros and cons? That could work. You could count them out on your fingers. Terezi says that’s annoying but really, what does she know? It would be better than the verbal torrent you’re sure to produce without some kind of strategy.  
  
          You reach the transportalizer to your room and Dave pauses, glancing your way.  
  
          ‘Whoa now,’ he says, and there’s the faint edge of a laugh in his voice. You’re pretty sure you would murder him if he actually laughed at you right now, paradoxes be damned. ‘You could at least alchemize me some flowers first.’ He’s popping his knuckles now, one at a time. It's one of those habits you hate, because it’s obnoxious and fidgeting with his dainty fingers is what he does when he's nervous about something. He follows you in and crosses his arms. ‘So, is this where we-’  
  
          You have no problem cutting him off. ‘No. No, hold on, look. I need you to let this sink into your thick human pan, so don't interrupt me. Understand that I'm being very considerate here. I figured that you’d want some privacy, because this is some mindblowing information I’m about to lay on you, and I imagine you won’t want the others to see you reeling from the revelation, okay? Consider yourself lucky that I just barely care enough about your feelings to provide you the courtesy.’  
  
          He runs a hand through his hair and tilts his head to the side. ‘Jesus, you’ve got it bad.’  
  
          ‘I’ve got - god _damn_ it Dave! I am trying to have a genuine heart to heart with you and you’re fucking it up! Shut your mouth and let me make this a proper confession before I eviscerate you and throw your corpse off this meteor, because I know for a fact that it would be a just death!’  
  
          ‘I can’t believe this. You’re like - this isn’t even a crush, this is an actual anguished declaration here. You’re going full Brokeback on me.’  
  
          You’re livid. You practically roar, stomping toward him, fully ready to shove him or punch him or kiss him or anything to make him shut his pouty mouth. He sidesteps you because he’s so fucking fast that it’s not even fair, and says ‘But yeah, same,’ and you trip over your feet and he grabs the back of your shirt so you don’t slam into the wall. ‘I mean, uh. It could work out. Us.’  
  
          Your mouth opens and then snaps shut with a click of sharp teeth that nearly splits your lip, and you shake your head. ‘This has been so pointlessly complicated. I should be so pissed off right now.’  
  
          ‘But you aren’t,’ he points out. ‘So is this the part where I sweep you off your feet? Hold your hands and gaze tenderly into your eyes? Kiss you in the most passionately homo no-homo way ever experienced by man or troll?’  
  
          Honestly, that... that doesn’t sound too awful. Some of that, in different words, obviously; it’s no secret to everyone on this meteor that you’re a hopeless romantic. Still, you shake your head. ‘No. Shut up and stop making me regret this.’  
  
          ‘Your loss.’  
  
          You hold eye contact - or what feels like it, it’s hard to tell with those shades in the way - for a few moments before burying your face in your hands and groaning. ‘He was right and now I have to validate him. This is the worst.’  
  
          ‘Huh.’  
  
          ‘My future self,’ you explain. ‘Or I guess I’m my future self now, and I have to tell my past self. I hate time loops.’  
  
          ‘Wait, you mean you hooked _yourself_ up with me?’ He snorts. ‘Nice.’  
  
          You ran out of patience a long time ago. ‘Stop. I don’t want to hear it. I have to deal with myself, and that’s the worst punishment that anyone could possibly inflict on me.’  
  
          ‘Want me to?’  
  
          ‘What.’  
  
          ‘Hey, I’m the time guy. It’s kind of my thing?’ Dave gestures toward his pajamas. ‘I’ll do it. It’s not like it wouldn’t be entertaining.’  
  
          ‘Ugh… I mean, yeah, that might work, but. Well. Actually, dealing with you is better than having to suffer through all his bullshit.’  
  
          With that worked out, you take out your husktop, which you only really use when youneed to get away from the others, because they can be too overwhelming for you to deal with sometimes. Dave drops heavily into the seat and boots it up, idly drumming his fingers on the desk as you stand next to him, your arms crossed.  
  
          You know you’re leaning a little too much into his space for it to be casual, cautiously testing the waters. You have no experience with this beyond what you’ve seen in your movies, and those don’t cover this situation. After he doesn’t lean away you reach out, your hand hovering - which you know he can see in his peripheral vision - for a few moments before resting it on his shoulder.  
  
          Dave’s hand pauses on the mouse for a second before he goes back to finding the right place on the timeline, which he makes look so much easier than it is for you. You’re a little relieved. You know him well enough to know that he’d say something ‘ironically’ deflecting if he was bothered. Instead, you watch as he opens the conversation, taps the capslock key, and lets you advise him as he closes the loop.  


**Author's Note:**

> [lies down] i barely even shipped it before the update. throw me in the garbage


End file.
